


Imagining new possibilities

by RCas



Series: Season 11 [2]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RCas/pseuds/RCas
Summary: As Scully and Mulder enter into their new relationship they share fears and difficulties. Scully digs into the possibility that William is trying to communicate. Pre-ep for Ghouli.





	Imagining new possibilities

Scully pressed into his chest as Mulder reached around to unlock the door in front of her. They'd just spent a full day in the office, which meant very little touching and no kissing. He'd been throwing suggestive looks at her all day and he flirted outrageously with her at lunch. As much as she wanted to strip off her hose, she also wanted to kiss Mulder. Right now, she wasn't sure which would come first.

He pushed the door open and nudged her forward, dropping his briefcase once they were inside the apartment. His arm slipped around her waist as she dropped hers too.

"That was a long day of not kissing you," he said, turning her towards him. Kissing comes first, she thought. After a few thorough kisses and some nibbling along her neck, Dana pushed back.

"Mulder, I needed that too. And right now I have got to get out of this suit."

He nodded, following her into the bedroom to change. It had taken them a few weeks, but they were getting the hang of their coming home from work routine. Now that Mulder was writing, he was eager to leave the office by 6 at the latest, a big change from their earlier years.

Dana took her time, while Mulder was quick to shrug into jeans and t-shirt, then head to the kitchen for a beer.

"You want anything, Scully?" He called. She heard the fridge open.

"Not yet," she called back, deciding that a quick shower was in order.

When she came out, happily dressed in her most comfortable tights and faded old t-shirt of Mulder's, he was settled on the couch reading the sports section. She plopped down on the couch next to him. He was enthralled. She could tell by the way his lips were narrowed into a thin line.

"Why are days in the Hoover Building so much more tiring than days in the field?" When he replied with a indistinct noise, she put her bare feet up on the table next to his, right in his line of sight.

His eyes caught sight of her toes. "What'd you say, Scully?"

Dana Scully knew how to get his attention, she gloated. "I asked why days at the Hoover are so much more tiring than being in the field."

"Oh," he said, reaching out for her toes. "That's easy. You don't let the kids out for recess often enough and it dulls their minds."

"Is that it?" She asked, twisting on the couch as he pulled her feet into his lap for a foot rub. "And how long should recess be?"

"All day." He dug is thumbs into her arches with just the right amount of pressure, making her moan with pleasure.

"You're so good at that Mulder," she said, laying her head back and closing her eyes.

"Of course I am, Scully." She opened one eye to give him a look. "What? I came hard wired on how to make your body feel good. It's your emotions that baffle me."

"Hmm, well, you're getting better at that too."

"Sure I am. I'm a really good student, when I put my mind to something." His rubbing had moved on to her heels.

"Oh, if you keep that up I'm going to melt into a puddle," she said, reluctantly pulling her feet out of his hands.

She scooted over next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I don't feel like cooking tonight. Do you?"

"No, not really." He took a swig of beer. "What do you want to call out for? Thai?"

"What about that new Mediterranean place? I like their falafel."

He nodded. "Will you order me that lamb gyro and the rice?"

"Yep."

After they had eaten Scully curled up on one end of the couch with her tablet. Mulder was at the other end, typing away on his laptop. Scully had the classic radio station turned down low and they sat quietly for over an hour. She was trying to read - for fun - like Mulder had suggested, and so, didn't go straight to the article in JAMA that she was interested in. Instead, she was online reading the about a female neuro-chemist who had a stroke during a period of intense research. The woman now spoke about the experience, her recovery and what her life was like after. She was still a researcher and had incorporated her experience into her work. Scully was intrigued and appalled by the idea of having to relearn everything at age 36, like this woman.

Mulder's bare foot nudged her thigh. "Whatcha' doing, Scully?"

"Reading - for fun. What about you?"

"I just got done emailing Jim." He was now using his toes to play with her leg. "He sent me a bunch of questions about a story idea with some links to research veins he's following. He sent it on Sunday, and I wanted to get back to him."

"That's fine, Mulder. I'm keeping myself busy."

"Yeah." He crawled over to her and looked at her tablet. "Neurochemistry, Scully? That's fun reading?"

"Yes, it is." She looked at him. "You're so full of shit, Mulder." She shook her head. "It's not like I'm reading peer-reviewed articles, this is on NPR."

He kissed her neck. "Okay, Scully. If you say so." He dropped a kiss just above the collar of his shirt she was wearing. "You about ready for bed? Tomorrow's a school day."

"Just let me finish this. I'm almost done." It was a new thing, this going to bed at a reasonable time. Getting so much sleep was good for her, she had to admit. The new weekday bedtime was part of Mulder's emerging writing routine. He'd go to bed with her and wait for her to fall asleep. Then he'd get up and write for a few hours, putting a long history of insomnia to good use.

Scully sank into the bed, enjoying the feel of the crisp, light summer comforter. It was warm, but not hot. Mulder snuggled up behind her, pulling her to his chest. He kissed her on the back of the head.

"Your writer friend, Jim, he lives in DC?" Scully was interested in these people who occupied some of Mulder's time.

"Yeah, he does. He's an attorney and he travels quite a bit."

"Does he have a family?"

"He has two kids. One starting grad school and one just finishing."

"Is he married?"

"They're separated."

"Oh," she felt a little tinge of sadness, noticing that Mulder had pulled her in tighter when he said the words. "Can I meet him?"

"You want to meet Jim? Sure, he'd love it." He squeezed her. "I'll set something up. He's coming back into town later this week."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to meeting one of your friends." She turned and kissed him, then wiggled back into his arms.

"Okay, Scully, go to sleep." He nudged the back of her head with his nose.

"Are you going to write tonight?" She asked, feeling sleepy already from his warmth and the comfort of being close to him. They were both enjoying this new intimacy. When they'd lived together before they hardly ever went to bed at the same time. Mulder was usually up surfing the channels until late in the night.

"Yes I am, just as soon as I've listened to you fall asleep."

"I love you, Mulder."

"I love you, Scully." And with that, Dana drifted off to sleep.

 

Mulder guided her into the restaurant, hand on her lower back as always. Tonight though, they were going out for social reasons, instead of sinking down at a grungy diner table to review case notes while they ate. Scully wanted to meet Jim, and according to Mulder, boy, did Jim want to meet Scully.

As his one writing buddy who lived nearby, Mulder and Jim met frequently for beers and baseball. Jim had heard all about Scully, listening and offering sympathy and occasionally advice. Mulder had been there for Jim to talk about his wife, Annette, from whom he was now separated, despite his objections. They shared a number of similarities: a love a box scores, writing and strong women.

Jim was waiting for them in the foyer, still in his charcoal business suit. He walked right up to them with a welcoming smile as they entered.

"So you're the Scully I've heard so much about," he smiled, making his brown eyes dance. Scully noted his deep voice, his tie loosened for the evening, his stylishly cut dark hair well streaked with silver. "It's so good to meet you finally."

"Jim, my partner, Dana Scully." Mulder reached out, slapping Jim on the shoulder. They were about the same height, she noticed, although Jim was a bit heavier than Mulder. "Scully, this is Jim Andrews. Don't believe anything he says about me."

They all laughed. "Partner?" Jim smiled.

"That's right," Scully answered. "Partners at the FBI."

Jim raised an eye brow at her and shook his head. He looked at Mulder. "You're gonna have to do something about that, buddy."

Mulder grinned, his arm around Scully's waist. "Maybe I should do something about that," he said as he smiled at her.

"Maybe? Hell, maybe, Mulder. You should marry this woman," Jim said, his smile lighting up his eyes.

Scully felt the shock register momentarily on her face. Clearly these two had had plenty of conversations about this.

"Uh oh, buddy, I think her heart just stopped," Jim joked.

"I think it did," she rasped out. "Mulder, you're current on your CPR, right?"

Jim took one look at her and laughed. "She's quick."

"Yes, she is," Mulder agreed, kissing her cheek.

 

Once they were seated and drinks were on the way, Jim started in with questions.

"Dana, can I call you Dana?" She nodded and he continued. "How on earth did you get partnered with this guy?"

"Interesting question, Jim," she said, Mulder sitting next to her in the booth with one arm draped around her shoulder. "The powers that be assigned me to the X files to debunk his work, thinking my scientific background and commitment to evidence-based investigating made me the right person for the job."

Mulder gave her a bump with his shoulder. "Scully was sent to spy on me."

"I was not, Mulder." She turned to him. "I was sent to discredit your work by showing it lacked any sound scientific-based reasoning, documentable findings and rigorous investigation."

"Yeah," he smiled. "That didn't work out the way the intended."

"No," she shook her head. "No it didn't."

"That's right. You knew genius when you saw it, didn't you?"

"Hmm, you're some kind of genius, alright, Mulder." She bumped him back. Jim sat across from them, watching the exchange.

"What is it with you two and the surnames? You've been together - working or otherwise - for 20 years, right?" He looked from face to face. "He always refers to you as Scully when he talks about you. Do you ever call each other by your first names?"

"No." They both said it at the same time.

"That's just weird," he shook his head.

"Come on, Jim. Didn't you ever work with someone you were attracted to and needed to create some distance? I couldn't have held it together if I called her by her first name," Mulder told him.

"Yeah, but you've been together for a long time now."

"Now it's just our thing," he replied.

"And he told he me once that no one, no one, uses his first name," Scully added.

"You know, Fox isn't an odd name. Not these days, anyway," Jim said, taking a sip of water. "So the two of you had a thing right from the start?"

They looked at each other, smiles pulling at their faces. Mulder laughed, leaned in and kissed her lightly.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "The chemistry was there. It just took us a few years to figure it out." Mulder offered. "Although there were many times when I was tempted."

"Oh, when was that, Mulder?" Scully teased. "It seemed to me that it took you the first five years before it occurred to you that I was a woman."

"Ouch," Jim hissed.

"Oh no, Scully. I knew you were a woman. How could I not? You were down to your bra and panties on that first case we worked together. That was a fine view I got for a couple of mosquito bites." Mulder shook his head. "You were so young back then."

"Oh, and now I'm old? Is that it?" Scully was playing along, laughing with him.

"Now you're gorgeous." He stroked the back of her head. "Back then you were too young to be gorgeous."

Scully felt herself flush lightly at the compliment, thinking that this was perhaps too intimate a conversation for company. Just then their drinks arrived and the waiter took their dinner order. Jim and Mulder had obviously been here before, choosing favorites off the menu.

"This place is great," Jim said. "You know, these craft brew pubs have been all over out west for years. I'm glad they're popping up out here. It's so nice to get great beer and good pub food."

"Do you travel a lot, Jim, or did you live out west?" Scully asked.

"I travel pretty frequently, often to the western states. I did live there for a time, when I was in college," he took a drink of his IPA. "I'm an environmental policy attorney and I consult to a number of large companies to keep them compliant with changing federal regulations. The work keeps me on the move a lot."

"That must keep you especially busy these days," Scully said, sipping her wine.

"Yeah, these days it's circus." He nodded. "Don't ask me to talk about it. Thinking about the federal government makes my teeth ache. That's why I started writing."

"So you don't write about the law, I take it."

"No," his face lit up. "Covert opts, action thrillers, that sort of thing," he said.

Mulder jumped in to tell Scully about one of Jim's recent short stories. Talking about writing passed most of the evening, the two of them volleying back and forth about other writers they like, botched details and, to her surprise, the finer points of writing steamy sex scenes. At this point in the evening Dana was on her second glass of wine, so the conversation only made her blush a few times.

"Well, Dana, it's been great to meet you," Jim said, tipping back the last of his beer. "Fox here is giving me the it's time to go look. We'll have to do this again sometime soon. I'm usually in town at least two weeks out of the month."

"Thanks, Jim. It has been fun." She smiled, happy with the company and conversation of the evening. "Thank you for introducing me to a new side of Mulder."

"You bet," he winked at Scully. "Fox, you get this beautiful lady home."

"You're going to beat this Fox thing into the ground aren't you," Mulder cringed.

Jim scratched as his cheek, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think I am."

"Come on, Scully." Mulder took her hand as she slid out of the booth and Jim stood up.

"Good night, Dana." Jim smiled at her. "Take it easy, buddy," he said to Mulder, slapping him on the shoulder.

Mulder and Scully said their goodbyes, then Mulder steered her out of the pub while Jim remained at their table.

"He's not leaving," she asked, waving back at Jim.

"No," Mulder said quietly. "He'll stay for a while, watch some baseball. He hates going home to an empty house."

"Why are they estranged?" She asked as they slipped into Mulder's car.

He had his hands on the steering wheel, but he didn't move to start the car. "I don't know, Scully. I don't understand what happened. Jim's totally in love with her. It sounds to me like their marriage was good for decades. He's a successful attorney, she's a popular professor at Georgetown, their two kids are healthy and happy. After the kids left for college, things started to change, according to Jim. Two years after their youngest left, Annette told him she was moving out. They've been separated for three years now."

"She hasn't asked for a divorce?" Scully asked quietly. She could see his concern for his friend.

"No. Jim doesn't want to live in that big house, but he doesn't bring it up because he doesn't want to give her any reason to think about divorce," Mulder shook his head. "It's tearing him up, but he does what he can to try to hold on. They get together for dinner when he's home. It always lights him up."

"I'm sorry, Mulder. He seems like such a nice guy."

"Yeah. Well, relationships are tricky," he said, staring out the window.

Dana laid her hand on his forearm and gave him a soft smile when he looked at her.

"Come on, Scully. Let's go home."

 

After their evening out with Jim they came home to the apartment, planning to make the drive tomorrow morning to spend the weekend at the house. This would mean cutting into Mulder's writing time, but neither of them wanted to make the drive tonight.

Mulder had been quiet on the drive and when they got home, they both undressed without speaking and slipped into bed.

They were spooned together, which was quickly becoming Dana's favorite way to fall asleep. But tonight, something was up. "Mulder, what's on your mind," she said, stroking his forearm.

"Just thinking about Jim. I caught the look on his face when I kissed you. The flash of pain was quick, but it was there." He sighed heavily. "I hate not being able to do anything to help."

"I think you help by being his friend, by being there for him, Mulder."

"I guess so. But I wish he was home right now holding his wife."

His use of the word wife reminded her of Jim's joke - or maybe it wasn't a joke - from earlier this evening. "Mulder, do you ever think about getting married?"

"Sure I do. I've thought about it for years," he said. His voice was quiet and Dana tried hard to hear if he was teasing.

"No you haven't."

"Yes, I have." He stroked her arm. "I even asked you once."

"Mulder, you were joking. And that was over the phone." So he is playing, she thought.

His hand came up to touch her hair, then her cheek. "I was joking, but I meant it, Scully." He was serious, she thought.

"Do you want to get married Scully? I never thought that was something you wanted to do, not with me." He twined his fingers in her hair. "Marriage seemed like something that was on your list, but in a different life than the one you were leading with me and the X files."

Dana wished she could see his face, and was also glad she couldn't. They were working on this honest, open relationship, but this might be a conversation better had while spooning. "It's something I've gone back and forth on. There have been times when I wanted to get married, before the X files," she took a deep breath. "And during. There have been times when I've wanted to marry you."

Dana heard his sharp intake of breath. She'd surprised him.

"And what about now, Scully?"

She thought she could feel his heart pounding against her back. Hers was too. This was the crux of her troubles with Mulder: her desire and need for him, and her wish that she didn't desire and need him. Dana knew herself well enough to know that she was scared. But Mulder had reimagined his life when he started writing and right now she wondered what it would be like to reimagine hers. What would it be like if she accepted that she wanted this life with him? That she needed him?

"Scully, you're killing me right now." She could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

"I'm taking a moment to imagine new possibilities, Mulder." She leaned back, pressing her hair to his lips. "I have fought with myself so much over needing you, wanting you. Part of me believes that I should be strong enough to do it all on my own, that it's easier, better. And then there's the part of me that shrivels up without you, the part that understands that love is so much fuller than independence. Right now, I'm imagining what it would be like to choose that life."

"So the jury's still out?" He sounded tense, but the edge of panic was gone.

"Mulder, I've always thought of you as relationship phobic."

He chuckled. "No, not relationship phobic, Scully. Bad at relationships, but not phobic. No, in the past I was scared of you, scared of us."

"Why?" She had been too. Dana was quite familiar with her tired list of reasons for why it couldn't work between them. She wanted to hear his reasons.

He stroked her hair. "In the beginning it was the chemistry - it excited me and it scared the shit out of me. I had just come out of that bad relationship with Diana and I was coaching myself day in and day out that I was not getting involved again. When you walked in and blew me away with your confidence and cockiness, I knew I was in trouble. I spent the first few years trying to ignore my feelings for you, certain that getting involved would only mean bad things for you. As our friendship grew, I became certain that we'd lose that if we got romantic. It was a disaster, all those years of denying my feelings."

"What changed things?"

He stroked her cheek. "You did, when you came to my bed that night after I got back from England. You decided to cross that line we'd drawn. There was no way that sex with you could ever just be sex, Scully. After that night, there was no turning back for me."

"All these years, Mulder, I've only had one foot over the line." She could see it now, all the ways that she'd failed to commit to their relationship. "I was scared, even once we were involved. Scared of losing what we had, scared of finding out that we could have so much more. I didn't let you see me, Mulder. Not all the way."

"And yet, here we are." His voice was so tender it made her heart ache.

"Mulder, I'm ready to step all the way over that line." She squeezed his arms. "The next time you propose to me, make sure I know you mean it."

"Hmm, I'll take that under advisement." He kissed her hair.

They were quiet. Dana could feel the silence swelling.

"I'm not gonna do it now, Scully." She could hear him smiling.

"Mulder, why not?" She tried turning towards him, but he held her in place.

"Because you're expecting it. Now's not the right time." He squeezed her.

"Mulder, have you ever heard the expression shit or get off the pot?"

He laughed. "That doesn't really apply to us, Scully. We've been sitting on the pot for 20 years now."

"Shut up, Mulder."

"Go to sleep, Scully."

 

Dana woke up to morning sunlight in their bedroom and cool sheets next to her. The bedroom door was open and she could hear Mulder tapping away on his laptop. Apparently the writing couldn't wait.

She lay in bed languishing in the warmth, thinking about last night's pillow talk. So he thought about getting married, huh? Dana couldn't believe that he'd shared that with her, or that she'd shared so much with him. But it had been easy. This new openness, and the vulnerability that came with it, was working, as long as they let it. It was a new commitment, she realized. Instead of worrying about protecting herself, of not getting hurt or letting him down, now she was reminding herself to be honest with herself and him. What she said last night was true - she wanted to choose this life of love and togetherness - she just hadn't realized it until she said it.

Her mom would be so happy to hear about this. The thought occurred and then the pain seared through her: her mom was gone. Dana felt her throat constrict and the tears coming. It had been such a short time since her mom had passed away, and Dana's heart and mind seemed slow to catch up with reality. Several times now she'd wanted to call her or found herself looking forward to their Saturday brunch only to realize that she couldn't do those things anymore.

Dana rolled over, buried her face in her pillow and cried. The tears came heavy and fast, nearly drowning her. Her whole body shook with it. She tried to be quiet, to keep the sobs from getting too loud. She didn't want Mulder to see this. He was hurting over this too; he and Maggie had a bond Dana didn't understand. She cried herself out, then laid on her back, feeling the soreness in her ribs. She hated this kind of crying.

Getting up, she headed for the bathroom. Pulling her hair up into a knot, she washed her face, hoping Mulder wouldn't notice. Dana slipped into the kitchen for coffee. He was at the small desk by the window, a mug next to the laptop. His focus as he typed was palpable. Leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee, she let her mind wander.

His kissed her cheek, drawing her mind back to the present. "Good morning," he said into her hair.

"Good morning."

Mulder was turning to pour another cup of coffee, then he came back to her. He fingers came up to her face, one hand curled around her exposed neck.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly. He took her cup and set it down. "You've been crying."

Dana felt her face scrunch up, the tears coming back. "I was thinking about my mom."

"Oh, Scully. Come here." He pulled her to his chest, wrapped his arms around her and she cried. Mulder stood with her, stroking her back, and let her cry.

Raising her head, she tried to stop. "Mulder, I'm sorry." She was snotty and getting it all over his shirt.

"It's okay, love." He pressed her back into his chest. "Cry till you're done." He rocked them gently, his cool fingers on the back of her neck. More tears came and he kept rocking.

Finally she felt cried out. Twice in one morning was enough. It was too much. "Mulder, I've got snot all over you."

"You're gonna get the dry cleaning bill for this, Scully, I'm telling you."

She gave him a faint smile and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"I'm proud of you, Scully," he said with his lips still pressed to her skin.

"Why?"

"You needed that cry," he said, bringing his hands to her face and looking her in the eye. "You don't have to do it all alone, love."

Dana slipped her arms around him, hugging him hard and listening to his heart. "Since when did you start calling me love?"

"Since this morning." He stroked her back. "I tried it out in one of my stories and I decided I like it. I've been using it in my head for weeks now."

"You write stories about love, Mulder?"

"Sometimes. It's a good way for me to see if something works with you."

"Works with me? But you're writing a story, you're making it all up."

"Yeah, I've got better odds that way." He was smiling as he drew back from her. He gave her a soft kiss. "How soon do you want to leave for the house?"

"How's your writing going?"

"Good. I got a couple of hours in."

"Would you like to write some more before we drive? I was thinking about going to the cemetery." She leaned back into him.

His hand came up to the back of her neck again, his thumb drawing small circles over her jaw. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Dana tried to relax her jaw under his thumb. It would be nice to have him there, but she hadn't gone back since the funeral. "I think I need some alone time."

"Okay." He kissed her hair. "I'll write till you're finished."

 

It was warm on the grass at the cemetery, with blue skies overhead and just a tiny hint of breeze. Dana carried bunches of flowers to her family plot. She'd spent too much time here already in her life. Coming up to the stones marking her father, sister and mother, she wished fervently that they were all still with her.

One by one, she laid flowers on their graves, finishing with her mom. Sitting down on the grass at her mom's feet, Dana let her mind drift. It was easy to go back to her mom's last hours and the words she said to Mulder in her final moments. Easy to ponder their meaning. But that wasn't what she wanted. Dana wanted to remember her mom for who she was, what she had done in her life, not her final hours. So she sat under the sun going back through her memories for happier times.

Digging through her life brought up memories of her father and Missy, too. A few times she found herself laughing out loud, usually at something that Missy had said or done. Missy had been outrageous, wearing flowing skirts, beads and tie-died shirts home to their military based housing. Ahab just shook his head at her, saying they'd never lose her in all those bright colors. It felt good to smile, to laugh thinking about her family. There were sweet moments of her time with William, her mom delighted to play grandmother.

Then she starting telling her mom about Mulder, carrying on a one-sided conversation in her head. Sitting here on the grass at her mother's grave, it felt a little less hollow than it had when she'd tried this from her apartment. Dana desperately needed to feel that there was some kind of connection still, so she continued updating Maggie on all the changes in their relationship. She smiled when she recounted the marriage conversation.

A light touch on her shoulder startled her. Mulder stood looking down at her. "This seat taken?" He was in dark jeans and a dark t-shirt, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. He also had a brown bag with him. Her stomach rumbled.

She patted the grass beside her, feeling a wash of relief flood through her. He sat down behind her, nestling her between his legs and wrapping his arms around her.

"How are things going out here?" He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Good. I've been recalling the good times." Dana laid her arms over his, combing through the light hair there with her fingertips. "Thanks for coming. I think I've had enough alone time."

He rocked her ever so slightly. She turned to look at his face and saw that he was staring her her mother's tombstone. She kissed his cheek.

"She loved you, Mulder."

He squeezed her and got up, taking two white roses just tipped with pink out of the bag. He knelt down next to Maggie's grave, and after a few moments of silence, laid one down next to Dana's flowers. He did the same at Missy's grave. When he was done, he sat down behind her again, pulling her in.

"I forget that you had relationships with my mom and my sister, Mulder."

His chin on her shoulder again, he spoke softly. "All of the Scully women have touched me."

"I wish you could have met my dad. He would have liked you."

He snorted into her hair. "Just the way your brother Bill likes me."

"Bill doesn't represent all of the men in my family, Mulder." She leaned in to him. "Dad would have seen your dedication to a purpose, your willingness to do anything to try to protect me."

"I'm sure he also would have seen how often you were hurt or in danger because of me. And all the people who died around me." She could hear the guilt in his voice, the self-flagellation.

"Mulder, don't lay this on yourself. We both made our choices, you know that."

"I know, I know." He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "We're not here to talk about this. I brought lunch. I thought we'd have a picnic with the Scully family."

Her stomach growled again and they both laughed. "Good timing, Mulder."

"Sounds like I better feed you before you go all hangry on me," he teased, moving to sit next to her. Mulder pulled a picnic out of the brown bag - sandwiches, a fruit salad and a brown to go box that she suspected hid something chocolate.

Dana munched on her sandwich in silence, Mulder quiet next to her. After she finished eating she spoke. "Mulder, do you think they can hear us?"

"Yeah." She looked at him when he didn't continue, needing him to say more.

"I do, Scully. The ties that bind us through love, friendship, hardship - they're strong. Strong enough to bind our souls together even as our bodies die. "

"You believe in reincarnation?"

"I believe that souls don't cease. That they continue on, that we're bound together in ways that we can't even imagine."

She leaned into his shoulder. "Thank you, Mulder." This is who we are, Dana thought. Two people with two different views, bound together.

"Thanks for letting me be here with you." He put his arm around her shoulders. She tipped her head back and let the sun shine on her face.

 

As they drove to the house in the early afternoon sun, an idea started forming in Scully's mind. She felt a bit like being lazy, but the idea niggled at her.

"Mulder, what are you going to do this afternoon?"

He was driving, but she could tell his mind was far from the road. His fingers were drumming the wheel. "I was thinking of spending a few hours doing research. How 'bout you?"

"I think I might read. We could take a walk after a few hours."

"Sounds good."

As they climbed up to the porch, Scully took one look at the sunny spot on the far end and decided that's where she'd do her reading.

"Can I cruise your bookshelves before you get started?" She was trying to sound casual, not wanting to let him in on her intentions just yet. Thankfully he was deep in thought, so he didn't pay attention to her.

"Sure," he answered as he fired up his computer.

After ten minutes of perusing his shelves, she'd drawn two conclusions: Mulder had a well-organized shelving system and plenty of what she was looking for to keep her busy. She left for the porch with her small stack of books as Mulder starred into his screen.

The porch was sunny and warm, maybe even a little too warm. Dana set herself up with a big glass of water, a notepad and pen on the small table next to her chair. Then she cracked open the first book and reviewed its table of contents. She'd taken down some of Mulder's books on telepathic communication, fighting with herself over it. Thinking about to their recent case with Judy and Chucky, she wanted to shun the idea, like she normally did. But the visions she'd had with those seizures a few weeks earlier drove her on. She had the strongest feeling, which she couldn't substantiate with any evidence, that William was trying to communicate.

During the agonizing moments of the seizures, as scenes and voices flashed through her mind, it was all Dana could do to keep from passing out. It was only afterward that she'd noticed a sense of presence, as if there was someone behind it all, someone directing the visions. It was William. She was certain.

There had been times like this before when she'd felt strongly about something she couldn't explain. She'd told Teena Mulder that her son was going to be okay after he'd gone missing and presumed dead in New Mexico. She had knelt down on her rug and prayed with Albert Hosteen. There were times when she was searching for Mulder that she could feel him nearby. She grouped the sense of communicating with William into that category of unexplained phenomena in her life and moved on.

Mulder's reading material took her down paths she'd never tread before, reading about ways and means of telepathic connections, reported cases, the variety of experiences described. Most of it she scoffed at. But the writing describing connections between mothers and their children that defied the boundaries of reality grabbed her attention. She read voraciously, quickly, taking it all in and looking for more. She'd forgotten about making notes and simply sank into the material.

The sun had left the porch when she looked up to the sound of bare feet on the floor boards.

"Hey, looks like you're reading some pretty interesting stuff." Mulder eased himself into the chair next to her and picked up one of the books. Seeing the title he looked at her closely. "Scully, what's going on? I'm pretty sure you've never read a page of this before in your life."

Caught, she nodded. What could she say to him? She'd never believed in this kind of stuff before. Suddenly she did? Was that true? And if it was, what did that mean for her relationship with science and the known world?

"You're thinking about William."

She nodded again, but still couldn't speak. He stood up and took her hand, pulling her out of her chair. Her knees protested from sitting too long.

"Come here," he leaned back against the porch rail and pulled her to his chest. "Talk to me, Scully."

Dana pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I can feel him out there Mulder. He's reaching for us." Mulder remained quiet. "Those visions I had during the seizures, about the smoking man and the plague - after they were over, I started to notice this presence. It was William. I'm certain of it."

"Is it really? Or do you want to believe that it's William?" He asked softly.

"Mulder, why is this so hard for you to believe?" She leaned back to look at him. After all those years of chasing after unexplained activities and investigating psychic abilities, why is this so hard?"

"This is so unlike you, Scully. Believing in a psychic connection between you and William. Why now? Why not any point earlier in all these years he's been gone?"

"I don't know, Mulder. I don't. But that doesn't change how strongly I feel about it."

His brow was furrowed, his eyes worried. Dana wondered if he thought she was losing her grip on reality. She'd thought that about him a time or two in the past. Turnabout seemed fair, right about now.

"So what did you pick up in your reading? Did anything help?"

"Honestly, Mulder, I'm having a hard time with most of it. It still seems like a load of BS to me," she shook her head. "You know, there's a Wiki How page on how to develop telepathic abilities and send messages."

"Oh yeah? What's it say?"

"It says if I relax, do yoga and ask you questions so that we can engage in energetic coupling, I can read your mind. Apparently, if I know what your favorite color is we're energetically connected, I can pull thoughts out of your mind."

"Scully, do you know my favorite color?"

"Mulder, it's ridiculous. But one of your books had a section about mothers connecting with children that they were separated from, or during situations where their child was in danger. It was harder for me to be skeptical about those stories." She sighed and dropped her forehead against his chest. "What if he is trying to reach out, Mulder? I don't know how to connect with him. It's just a whining in my head."

She felt his body tense just slightly. "Are you still hearing it?"

"No, not since the seizures stopped. But I still have a sense that he's there."

He nodded against the top of her head.

"Mulder, have you read about this somewhere?"

"Oh, I'm sure I've read about it at some point." He rubbed her arms up and down. "Scully, you remember when you came back from Africa?"

Her stomach knotted. The image of Mulder strapped down to the bed in the psychiatric ward, his mouth slack and his eyes closed leapt to her mind. She nodded.

"Well, that's how it started for me - a whine in my head. At first it was low enough that I could still function, but soon it was too much. And then I could recognize it - it was people's thoughts. Hundreds of thoughts, from all around me. It was like being shut in a room surrounded by tv's all set to different channels, all blaring. There was no way to turn it off. I couldn't take it."

"You never told me that." She looked up. "Could you hear individual people?"

"Sometimes, when they were in the room with me. It might have had something to do with relationships, too. The people I could hear clearly were you, Skinner, Diana, my mother and the smoking man."

Repulsion and awe where dancing across his face. His hands were still on her arms.

"Were they conversations, or were you reading their minds?"

"Both. I could hear thoughts clearly and sense emotion. You were so pure in your desire to save me Scully. That's when I knew with absolute certainty that you loved me. And you were so adamant of your distrust of Diana and Skinner." The slight smile faded from his face. "Listening to her was toxic. I could hear her thoughts, she directed them to me. Obviously, she knew I could hear her. Even as she thought the words, I could feel the sickly sweet and entirely false feelings of affection she was sending towards me. All these years later, thinking of her mind makes my stomach turn."

"But it all ended. Was that with the surgery?"

"Honestly, Scully, to this day I don't know. I remember the smoking man injecting something into my scull and my thoughts clearing. But I was having these dreams that were so real that I didn't know they were dreams. After he took me, all I did was dream. I had a whole life, full of things that almost felt right, but weren't. You were gone. They told me that you died."

He stopped and shook his head, sadness settling into the lines of his face. "It doesn't matter. It wasn't real. When you woke me, pulled me out of that room, the voices were gone. But for days, maybe even a whole week, I did have a sense of awareness that lingered."

"That was the only time you felt it?" Dana suspected she knew his answer. There were so many things they kept from each other.

"No. Twice lately I've heard that same whining, but it didn't ever resolve into actual thoughts." He looked at her and she waited. She wasn't going to ask for anything more from him. "You remember when we were in Dr. Sanjay's apartment? I heard it then. And again when we went looking for Kyle. It was him both times."

"And you think what I'm experiencing is similar?"

"It could be. We both have been exposed to unknown substances, Scully. We've both been experimented on. We don't know what they've done to us. And we don't know how that may have effected our son."

Those old wounds hung between them for a moment. She let it pass, not wanting to dredge up those memories.

"Do you think we're connected to William? Do you think that's possible?" She leaned her head against his chest, not wanting to see his face if he said no.

"I want to believe, Scully. I do." He rested his chin on her head. "After so long looking for Samantha, all the ups and downs, I just don't want you to be torn apart by this." He cupped her chin and lifted her face so they made eye contact. "We may never find him, love."


End file.
